Letters From A Dead Girl
by train to greenwich
Summary: She gives you a cold empty smile and invites you into her cold empty twisted little world, and you are pulled in regardless.
1. Remember

If you're reading this, I'm dead. No what-ifs or pointless tears. So stop crying on my letter and suck it up. I did. You can too. So, if you're done with your inevitable little sob-fest, let's move on. I'm not going to give you any of the black-and-white banter about how I hated my life, myself, etcedera. I was an emotional, annoying, vapidly selfish child, and I'm done being overtly such.

So now you're asking why, I'll bet. You probably wouldn't read this if you weren't wondering. Firstly, it's my life, after all. Secondly, I'm done with being forgotten. I know I shouldn't care, just keep fixing you all up as you come back to me bleeding and broken. I can only take so much of this. I have a breaking point too; it's just not like me to start screaming or bawling. Who would care, anyway? I've faded into the background. I'm just white noise, static leftovers of something better.

I know you're thinking this is about our dear traitor friend. Sure as hell isn't. Even if _he'd _been here, things would have panned out the same. Nope. Sorry. You can't blame him. Not this time. Because for some reason, I'm messed up inside. Something's wrong with me, to make me want this so bad; to want it even when I know you all need me here. I don't desire the comfort of a friend, or the caress of a lover; I don't even want the contact a foe brings with the first strike. Don't touch me, because what I want you could never give; would _never_ give. Don't touch me, because I crave the knife.

Don't blame yourself. Please don't. I was a hindrance, so don't patronize me in death; saying I was worth something. Don't blame the traitor, either, as much as you would like to. This would have happened anyway; bet your life on it. Or at least mine, I would tell you, because it's worth so much less; but I've already erased it.

I'm not sorry about what I did. Forgive my repetition, but I was sick. Disturbed. A freak. You never saw, any of you. You never suspected. With you, I am human. Alone, I don't know what I am. Really, this is better. You don't have to see what I've become.

Don't cry at my funeral, if there is one; save your tears for lost kin, lost comrades, lost loves.

This is all I have to say. I go of my own accord, by my own desire, by my own decision. I'm empty; finished; done.

And remember, I love you.

See you on the other side.


	2. Promise

"Sakura!" Naruto pounded insistently on the wooden door to his best friend's apartment. "It's three already!" He exhaled wearily. "Don't be like sensei," he pleaded. "Come _on_, Sakura! You _promised_ to go to lunch with me today!"

Nothing.

Naruto put his ear to the door. Frowning, he noted the obvious lack of noise. No rustles, no voices, no footsteps.

Nothing.

Naruto felt the beginning tinges of suspicion begin to filter to the surface of his mind. "Sa-ku-ra-chaaaaaan!" He accentuated each syllable with another blow to the door. "Open up!" Sighing, he let his head fall forward, hitting the door with a dull _thunk_. "You promised" he muttered into the door.

Nothing.

"I'm going to come in, 'kay, Sakura?" Naruto tried to ignore the burn of worry in his stomach as he slid his identification card out of his pocket. Putting his ear to the door, directly over the lock, he pushed the plasticized card into the space between the doorjamb and the door itself. He narrowed his eyes, listening carefully for the eventual _click_ of the locking mechanism. With one more slight tap to the lock and a quick twist to the knob, the door swung open. In spite of himself, Naruto smiled. _So, I haven't lost my touch after all._

Standing in one fluid motion, Naruto stepped cautiously over the threshold and into the hallway. His slow footsteps seemed to echo, even in the small space. "Sakura? Are you here?"

Nothing.

Naruto stopped in the small kitchen, noticing the abundant amount of dust. Swirling in the symmetrical blocks of afternoon sunshine, the brilliant motes bespoke something much darker. Naruto frowned, wondering aloud. "Where could she have gone?"

_We've seen less and less of each other, it seems,_ Naruto thought absently. _But I asked her if she wanted to go to lunch for just that reason. She seemed happy, at the time._ He began to walk to the living room. _Happy like usual. This, though, this isn't like her at all; not like Sakura at all. She was probably called away on a sudden mission. But still... _His footsteps shuddered to a halt, eyes roving over the living room as he surveyed it carefully. _I can't help but worry._

It was simple, really, like the rest of her apartment. The colors were muted, which made the stark white of the envelope placed oh-so-precisely in the center of a low table all the more conspicuous. Naruto frowned at the envelope, as if it were all the paper's fault, as he picked it up. _What is this? And where in __**hell**__ is Sakura? _

His hands fumbled as he opened the envelope, untucking the flap from the envelope itself with some difficulty, unfolding the letter within with even more trouble.

Naruto's eyes widened as he began to read. He heard the sharp intake of breath he couldn't believe was his own, because this was not happening.

_**If you're reading this, I'm dead. No what-ifs or...**_

This was not happening.

_**...white noise, static leftovers of something better...**_

It was not.

_**Don't touch me, because what I want you could never give; would never give.**_

Because, of course, that scenario was impossible.\

_**...bet your life on it. Or at least mine, I would tell you, because it's worth so much less...**_

completely

_**You don't have to see what I've become.**_

utterly

_**And remember, I love you.**_

impossible

_**See you on the other side.**_

In the bottom left hand corner, a graphic was placed precisely in a way that spoke _'Sakura'_.

_**...I love you...**_

A small, crudely drawn heart, the blood it was drawn with clotting along each vertice, screamed it.

"Sakura." Naruto closed his eyes. The words burned from the paper into his hands, into his eyes. "You promised."


	3. Games

I thought to give you fair warning before you continue. If you want to back out, if you want to drop this letter here and now, if you want to walk away, if you want to pretend this never happened, do it now. There is no guarantee that you'll be able to get out of the remnants of my mind after this. I won't blame you if you crumple up this paper, if you tear it into one hundred and two tiny pieces. If you burn it, if you fold it into a boat and let it float down the river, it won't matter to me. I'm dead, after all. Or, at least, I will be, by the time the optic nerves send my words to your brain, which will then try to process what you're reading and make sense out of the jumbled symbols on this page. I've been a medic for almost four years now. I know exactly how long that will take, just like how I know-knew-precisely how long it would take for me to die. Intriguing, isn't it?

So, to clarify: if you want to forget this, walk away. Now. Consider yourself warned. I couldn't rescue _myself_ from my mind.

What makes you think I can save _you_?

Think about it.

But now, on with the show.

Well then. Congratulations. You must have known me well enough if you were able to find the second note, the piece of paper you're holding right now. Good job. But I'll tell you now: It's only going to get harder from here. When you're reading my letters, following them, consider yourself a player in my game. Humor me. This is my last game, after all. And who knows, I may get to see it, too, if there's an afterlife. But, because there's no promise of that, I'll have to be happy with the satisfaction of knowing someone is playing my game. It might not be who I intended, and I've thought of that. I planned this-oh, yes, I planned it-so only three other people could make it to the end. You know who you are; you know. So, if you're one of my selected three, play along. As a final tribute, if that's what you want to call this charade.

This will all lead to the last letter, where I will explain everything_-everything-_honestly, wholeheartedly, and completely: my requiem; your goal. I'm telling it in bits and pieces because I want you to figure it out for yourself. The last letter is the end, the conclusion. Now, if you want closure, do it. Not for me. For you.

Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for. But remember this.

I warned you.


	4. LookingUpSteppingDown

Thank you all for 15+ favorites and 10+ Story Alerts! I would **really** like it if you all reviewed, too*cough_hinthint_cough*

Enjoy!

_

* * *

__One, two, three, four._

If he counted the stairs, thought only of the stairs, then maybe he could unsee, unthink. Time would rewind, and Sakura would open the door when he knocked, smiling and laughing and _alive._

_Five, six, seven, eight._

But then he would remember the piece of paper, crumpled beyond recognition in his fist; the envelope lying discarded on the hallway floor of her apartment. Evidence.

_Nine, ten, eleven, twelve._

Naruto gazed up at the sloping ceiling of the stairwell, dusty with laced cobwebs. He closed his eyes, feeling as if he hadn't slept for a century. This made him old, older than memory. Sakura was…_dead._

_Thirteen, fourteen…fifteen…slowly now._

"'Ey, you. Boy."

_Sixteen…seventeen…stop._

An elderly woman peered down at him from the last landing, ten feet above him. Her expression was unreadable. "Looking up and stepping down is not wise, boy." She blinked slowly. Naruto felt as if she could see right through him; that she knew everything about him, about Sakura, about what had happened.

_stay _

"Are you upset she left without telling you?"

_still _

Naruto started. _What? How could she-Impossible! She couldn't know; she wouldn't act so casually if she did-Or would she? I don't know this woman, I have no idea-_

_for_

"She must have had an important mission, boy." The old woman stared at him suspiciously.

_a _

"A mission," he mumbled. "Yeah. A mission. Right." He scuffed the toe of one shoe along the length of the stair.

Naruto sighed. He was paranoid, jumping to conclusions the way he was. He was being ridiculous; she couldn't know anything about _this._ That obscene mess left in Sakura's apartment, all coalesced into a pathetically lacking note, full of cryptic little riddles, leaded with double meanings and mind games. He growled under his breath, glaring at the floor.

_little _

"Who are you, boy?"

_while _

"Never mind, I'm leaving." Naruto shoved his hands in his pockets, turning away from her.

_Eighteen._

"Hold it right there, boy," the woman demanded. "Tell me your name." She crossed her arms, obviously waiting for a response.

_Nineteen._

"Naruto. You happy? Can I leave now?" He didn't intend for his voice to sound so gruff, but gruff was better than a voice full of tears.

_just_

She frowned. "Wait there." The woman disappeared from view, going down the hallway, probably back to her apartment.

_bide_

Naruto fell back against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position against the cracked plaster. He let his head tilt back, covering his eyes with his arm. He was not crying. He _was not._ He didn't cry, not any more. But still, he felt heat gathering in his eyes, warmth trailing down his cheeks. _She promised! __**I**__ promised! _He gritted his teeth. _I have no control over __**anything!**_

_your_

"Boy. This is for you."

_time_

Naruto didn't look up. He was frozen, stuck in limbo by conflicting emotions, but he still heard the _thud-schf_ of something flat hitting the landing just below him, then the eventual _tak tak tak_ of the woman leaving.

He didn't _want_ any more of this. He didn't want to know what else she had to say. Every time he even _thought _about the note, it sucked the energy out of him. But still, he felt obligated. She came across as so apathetic, so heartless, so _broken _in that letter, there was really no other option.

With a cough and a hasty wiping of the eyes, Naruto stood, and, after considering for a long moment, picked up a manila envelope. It was slightly weighty, fat with its contents. _What the hell? How much did she write? _The thought, though, of so many pages, ridden with guilt, made him shudder inside. With gathering dread, he started down the stairs again.

_Twenty, twenty one, twenty two. _

It felt like the innocent envelope tucked under his arm grew heavier with each step.

_Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five._

It was a disturbing thought, really.

_Almost there._

Being weighed down by someone else's life.

_Twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight._

Their mistakes.

_Bottom._


	5. Setraline

I'd like to thank everyone for sticking with me this far; I'm teeling you now the rest is going to be one hell of a ride.

If you have any questions about any scientific/medical shiznit, PM me. I researched for an hour; I need to nerd all over SOMEone.

Enjoy.

* * *

Naruto walked around Konoha, over and over and over. Something told him, though, no matter how long he walked, that he couldn't get away. He carried his pain with him, tucked into an envelope by a dead girl. It was magnetic, stuck to his skin. He couldn't drop it, even if he wanted to. It was made of glue and memories, and it stuck like a knife in a wound.

He nodded in passing and voiced hasty greetings, missing beats here and there, deviations from his usual demeanor. Walking past, never seeing the same faces twice. _Much like life._ They didn't know what was going on; they never would. It would all be a horrible accident, just another defection. He could hear them already, gossiping and going _chia chia chia_ behind paper fans and splayed fingers. Little fluttering lies and puzzle pieces… Why-no, _how_-could she have wanted this?

He had never liked mind games.

Naruto contented himself with sitting on the wide wall surrounding the Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Watching the lights blink out one by one as night fell was somehow satisfying, giving a sense of finality. It was like so many fireflies dying, one by one by one by one.

He stretched out on top of the wall, hands behind his head and eyes wide open. The manila envelope rested on his stomach, feeling heavier than it could possibly be.

Minutes passed, then an hour. With an anbaric buzz, the streetlights flickered on. Naruto sat up slowly, registering the paper packet's slow slide to the ground next to him. He glared at it. _Stupid thing._ _Can't just leave it be, can I?_

And he couldn't. It was like a scab that he picked, over and over until it scarred.

Reluctantly, he pulled the metal tab holding shut the flap to the envelope. Confusion flashed across his face as a folded note slid out from under it. It was about as long as the first, and even more disturbing. Naruto mentally shuddered as Sakura wrote about games, lies, mentalities, and closure. Pushing the painstakingly written note into his pocket to join its predecessor, he pulled out the first of what seemed like an endless supply of thick papers.

He scanned the organized type quickly. Her name was in bold at the top, along with her age, weight, height, and physical statistics, all dated to about five years ago, genin-age. Her photo smiled out at him happily, a small, innocent girl taken back in time.

He riffled through them, one for every year Sakura had completed as a shinobi. He stopped at the most recent one, dated to approximately three months earlier.

The light made the already dark, geometrically perfect typeface even more contrasting. It bleached all the color out of the photograph on the upper right hand corner of the page, leaving its lone inhabitant a pale ghost.

_Sakura._

His mouth fell open. She was hardly recognizable as the little genin from the first picture; a completely detached, dead-eyed statue.

There was nothing out of the norm at first; everything there was required for Leaf-nin. The handwritten notes in the sides, though, were a different story. An ugly scrawl that could only belong to the constantly inebriated Hokage was scattered throughout the description of Sakura's health, much of it unintelligible to Naruto. Medications and shorthand of that same science were all the same to him; they made no sense whatsoever.

Squinting at the page, he brought it closer to his eyes in an attempt to decipher the illegible mess that was the Hokage's handwriting.

What Naruto read scared him. He had no idea what in hell dissociative identity disorder was, but obviously, the Hokage suspected her student had it. There was also a paragraph on depression scribbled in the margins, as well as notes in red about parasuicide. _Depression? My Sakura-chan? Never! _Naruto clenched the edge of the paper tightly, creating a web of wrinkles. _Crazy old Tsunade…Fucking paranoid! There's nothing wrong with Sakura-_

And then Naruto caught himself. Because there _was_ something wrong with Sakura; Hell, it looked like there had always been. It was like getting the rug pulled out from under you, thinking that you knew everything, but you really knew nothing.

Naruto flopped back onto the wall and threw an arm across his eyes for the second time that day. "Setraline," he said dazedly. "What the _hell_ is setraline?"

_Setraline, peroxitine, topiramate… _

The streetlight had no answer.


	6. Us:We:Them

Whoa, am I on a roll or what? See, I AM a good alien, contrary to popular belief. I pay my taxes and obey all zoning ordinances, unlike you unruly Earthlings...This chapter was an idea floating in an embryonic state in my head, sort of half-there, and was kickstarted by AleinaReigning's story, **Silent.** Go on, you know you want to read it. You do, I know it. NOW GO FORTH, MY MINIONS, AND-

But I digress. Reviews are appreviated, but not mandatory(No duh.). I would, however, like all the PMs questioning my mental health to be curbed. Thank you all in advance; enjoy.

* * *

**Stupid girl. What have you been thinking all this time? That everything is just going to fall back into place? That everything is going to be all right? That life is good? **

Well, maybe it could be. You never give anything a chance! Of course everything will seem bad to you, you-you-you-

**Me-me-me? I AM you, Sakura. Get out of your head and look around! He's not coming back! **

I don't WANT him back anymore! Look what he did to everyone, to Konoha! I could never-

**But you would, anyway. I know you because I am you. You-we-would take him back in a heartbeat, in the blink of an eye-**

No! I don't! I never really loved him! It was all-

**I KNOW, Sakura! You can fool them, but not me! I know EVERY DAMNED THING ABOUT YOU! I know all you want to do is hold him close, but he's not like that. He's not coming back-**

_WELL, I DON'T CARE! _

**You don't? You DON'T? Then why do you cry at night, huh? Can you tell me, Sakura?**

No.

**Hm. And why?**

Because you already know, don't you. You like to play with my mind. Sick creature. What ARE you anyway? Why are you even in my head? I never wanted you-

**Oh, but you did, little kunoichi. YOU created me, because you can't feel. **

I can feel! Of course-

**Sure, you laugh, you cry. But you never get angry.**

I get angry all the time! You've seen, haven't you?

**But you never get REALLY angry. You shut it away, just like Ha-**

DON'T!

**JUST LIKE HAKU.**

I'M NOT LIKE HIM! HE'S A FREAK-

**But you are. Can't you see, little kunoichi? You pretend, all the time. Maybe you're not aware, but I am. You fake your anger, your laughter. You let him push you around, hurt you, _anything-_so long as you earned his approval. .**

I would never let that-

**But you did. You were a blank slate, and you let others project what they wanted onto yourself.**

But-

**You weren't always.**

Wait-what are you saying?

**You were normal. **

There's no such thing as-

**Consolation for the weak, sweetie. Get off your high horse.**

Go away.

**I'm not finished here, little kunoichi.**

Shut up.

**You'd be surprised, what you've bottled up. The sheer amount of accumulated emotion. Impressive, to say the least. But, as to why…interesting story, really. You, my little friend, seemed to need a coping mechanism after he left.**

Shut up shut up-

**You seemed to think it better not to feel; not to be too extreme. So then I came forward. I've always been here, but you'd never fed me. Now, ah. Paradise. I have all the anger I want, all the tears I could eat. YOU created me.**

No! Shut up-

**YOU did this, little kunoichi. I would have laid dormant all your life if you hadn't made yourself weak-**

NO! I MADE MYSELF STRONG!

**Weak. **

NO! I MADE-

**Stone will shatter before the clay does. **

Go. Just go.

**What, are you going to cry now? You want me to leave you all alone, like they both did? **

Stop it!

**You want me to run off to Oto? You want me to go train? You want me to leave you like they did?**

**Well?**

**I'm waiting…**

No.

**No what, little kunoichi?**

I don't want you to leave. I need you.

**Say it again.**

I don't want you to leave.

**Again.**

I need us.

**Again. **

I need-

**No. Not that.**

Then what-

**Accept.**

Us.

**Us.**

_Us._


	7. Suicide Blue

Naruto felt fogged, like he was underwater. Everything was disjointed; random events strung together like glass beads on a wire. One minute he was on the wall, the next he was leaping through Konoha's sleeping streets with a feral grace he hadn't thought he possessed; hadn't _known_ he possessed.

Possessed...Yes. He had it now. That was what was going on. Naruto realized with a twisting rush of adrenaline and dread that the Kyuubi was primed to emerge. It wanted-no, it didn't want vengeance. There was nothing to avenge itself upon. It was drawing on his own desire for answers, feeding, because it was so hungry hungry hungry hungry HUNGRY _FEED ME NOW-_

Naruto stopped dead, catching himself as he fell and landing in a crouch, sitting frog-style. _Augh! Why __**now?**__ I can't stop it now; not when I want to fall open and let everything out-_

But he couldn't. He just…couldn't let that happen. If he just let go like that, he'd end up-

_Just._

_Like._

_Her._

Naruto snapped his head up sharply, lucidity returning. Sweeping his gaze around his surroundings rapidly, it took a moment for his location to register. Everything was still coming in bits and pieces, synapses firing erratically, pulse jumping. _Ah. The training grounds._

With a soft _shhhhhfffttt-fff_ he let himself fall backward into the grass, looking up at the sky. Deep, serene midnight-blue-_No, _he thought wryly, _freaking-out-two-am-suicide-blue. _Naruto spread out his arms, a human star. _Yeah, suicide blue. Because there's no such thing as okay. _He pulled at the blades of grass, grasping handfuls and ripping. Holding his arms out above him, he let the flora flutter down to rest on his face, like he had when he was younger. Fittingly so, for in that moment he felt young again; lost, floating in a dark haze with no way out.

_And this time, _he thought, _there's no Sasuke to pull you out. _Sighing, he closed his eyes. _There's no Sakura. _Naruto opened his eyes, wishing he could see himself. Maybe if he saw his own face, he could ascertain what he felt.

He simply lay there, breathing.

_In the end, they both left. _

In.

_So what do I do now? _

Out.

_There's only me again. _

In.

_No, first I'm finishing this. _

Out.

_That note, in my pocket. _

In.

_I'm going to finish this, so I can burn it with no regrets. _

Out.

_Because I'm never going to be like Sakura._

In.

_I've seen what happens now. _

Out.

_And I can't. _

In.

_I have to burn it._

Out.

_No regrets. _

In.

Naruto squeezed his eyes shut tightly, so that the insides of his eyelids blossomed red and blue where the stars were. They faded as fat globules slid down his face, streaking along his temples and nestling into the glass like so many glass eggs. He was wearing thin, eroding away. He was going to finish this before it finished him, _so help me, or I will die trying._

Because he couldn't just take it, not any longer. Watching them go, one by one. So different, but somehow the same. And, oh gods, it scared_ the living hell out of me. I don't know how I'll-we'll-make it out of this one and still hold everything together. I don't know how we'll make it out of this one _because there was no more 'we'. Not anymore. The 'we' became '_us', just me and Sakura-chan. And now it's just me, and _he was all alone, just like that.

Naruto snapped his eyes open, one more time, rebelling against the fuzzy feeling, the ache behind his eyes. _Yeah, I know. _He smiled, even though it hurt so, so, so badly, right in the pit of his stomach and the left side of his chest. _Suicide blue. _

_And out, one more time._


	8. FlashFrozen

He couldn't decide where he wanted it. Left, right, left. And back to the right again. On and on, left-right left-right.

Indecisive.

Naruto brought his eyes right down to the level of the tabletop. He didn't want to read it. Not now, not ever. _Never never never_. He wanted to keep thinking of Sakura the way he had, the way she had always been. _I want to freeze her, remember her like she was instead of this…broken. I want her to be that happy girl I first…_

He shook his head vigorously, clearing his head. He didn't have time to reminisce, not when all this was still on the line. _All this…_ Her life.

Trying as hard as he could not to avert his eyes, he forced his gaze down to the paper, the latest in a slowly darkening series. Naruto had found the paper in question just that morning, awakening in the training field. He had seen it, tucked into the forked twigs of a sakura tree. The irony was just sickening. He remembered the _swoop-thud _he had felt as he had seen the pale origami blossom, juxtaposed against pale pink petals and stark black branches. As he had tried to pull it out, it was as if the twiggy little fingers of the tree pulled at him, trying to reel him in. Alarmed, Naruto had yanked his arm away in a fit of paranoia, snapping thin branches. He had gained the paper, though. He had the paper flower, though, and that was all that mattered.

See, he _had_ to have it. It was compulsory, almost an obsessive desire. But, once he had it, his responsibility snowballed, obsession turning to repulsion turning to attraction, like an ever-shifting magnet.

And now, here he was. Staring at that gods-damned paper. He had smoothed it out as best he could, but it hadn't done much to flatten it. He couldn't fix it.

He just couldn't.

So Naruto sat there, chin on the table's edge, gazing pointedly at the patches of shadow and light created by that paper. Conflicting oceans of dark and patches of light played across its surface, suggesting movement.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Four minutes.

Five minute-

_To hell with this! _Naruto snatched up the abused note, flipping it over and forcing his eyes to follow Sakura's neat kanji. _Here we go._ Naruto inhaled sharply, and then flipped the paper.

Brazen ink soldiers slopped down the page, thick lines and fat blotches. Odder and more deviant still were the hastily made notations in Sakura's handwriting.

_What? _Naruto pulled the previous letter out of his pocket; flattened it next to the one he was currently suffering th-reading. His eyes flicked back and forth to each in quick succession. _This can't be her writing! Was she passing notes or-_

And then he read it. _Really _read it.

_Oh, gods. _

Sakura _was_ talking to someone.

_What Is this?_

Sakura was talking to herself.

Naruto's mind whirled, jumping from scene to scene of monochromatic memory; finally settling on a fogged relapse of years before. _Ino. The Chuunin Exams. Shintenshin-what had Ino said? The jutsu failed-no, Ino said she was kicked out of Sakura's head by some other __**thing**__…could this-_

_Dissacosciative Identity Disorder. Baachan-Baachan was right. I've got to find Baa-no, I can't; how can I explain? I have to find Ino!_

This sent Naruto's mind reeling. Black and white clashed together symphonically on the page, betraying so much more than the meaning of the words.

_Remember to breathe, Naruto. _

Sakura was writing a note.

Sakura was writing to herself.


	9. Love, She Quoted

"Ino!"

Naruto rapped impatiently on the green-painted door of the Yamanaka family's flower shop, cursing mentally. Ino must have _seen _him; _heard _him; it had been almost a minute, so why the hell wasn't she getting the door?

Hands fumbling across peeling green paint, he knocked again, more violently this time. With each contact he made with the barrier between himself and answers, he sunk more deeply into a pit of irritation and muffled sadness. _If she knew why I was here… _"Ino!" he shouted, banging with renewed vigor. "Inooooooo! Open! The! Dooooooooor!" _What, do I need to say that I have hot gossip on someone? Is there some kind of entrance fee that can be paid in rumors? _"I! Have! A-" Quite suddenly, there was a lack of a door and an excess of Ino. Naruto, she assumed, did not notice her, because he continued to shout, eyes shut tightly.

"Naruto!" the bonde snapped angrily. "_What_ in the gods-damned _world_ are you doing here? You do realize that, firstly, this is not Ichiraku's, and, secondly, that we're closed?"

Naruto's eyes flew open and he snapped to attention, peering at the red-and-white sign hanging on the door. "Well, so you are," he said, surprisingly meekly. "I'm sorry, Ino. It's really important."

Under the glare of the just-brightening streetlights, he looked much younger, much more innocent, save for the shadow that had fallen across his face with his apology. Something was eating at the boy, obviously. "Well, come on in, then," the girl said grudgingly. A little more gently, she added, "So what do you need?" As they entered, Ino pulled the door shut with a thud that emanated a sense of finality, leaving the two enveloped in the sight and smell of thousands of blossoms. She leaned back against the nearest shelf, stifling a yawn as she did so. "Flowers, chocolates…advice." Ino watched him out of the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction.

Naruto followed suit, resting his weight on the counter. "I need you to answer some questions," he asked uneasily. "Try to be as accurate as you can," he directed. "This-this is really important."

Ino raised her hands in a reassuring gesture. "Fire away, then. I've heard it all."

Naruto spoke slowly, choosing his words in a circumspect manner. "What…exactly…did you see at the Chuunin Exams…when you used the Shintenshin on Sakura?"

Ino sat for a moment, mentally stuttering. _What…what the hell! Where did __**this**__ come from? This, of all things? _"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold the phone. _What?_"

Naruto banged his fist on the table impatiently. "What did you see, Ino? This is _important_."

"In Sakura's head…at the exams three years ago."

Naruto nodded. "Please, just answer. I can't explain."

Ino swallowed; shook her head in confirmation. "Let me draw it. Do you have any paper?"

Naruto pulled out the most recent paper-Sakura's conversation with herself. "Here," he stated, placing the note with the written side down. "Use this." He looked away, not wanting to watch, for some convoluted reason. Staring at a terra-cotta pot filled with hibiscus, he was startled out of his reverie by Ino's voice.

"…and this is basically what it-Hey! Are you listening?" Ino's righteously angry voice invaded his thoughts. In irritation, she shoved it at him. "Here. And that reminds me; I'll be right back." And, with that, she darted into the back room.

Listening to Ino-possibly the most irritating female in all of Konoha-bustle about in the back room, Naruto decided he didn't understand women. He shoved the paper she had given him back into his pocket, deciding to look at it later. He didn't need that right about now, and chose to concern himself with the copious amount of swearing coming from the other room, followed by the reemergence of a rather frazzled-looking Ino, clutching a glazed pot.

"Your order," she said breathlessly. "Or, at least, I think it's yours." Both looked down at the innocent pot in the girl's hands, filled with red and white chrysanthemums. He saw the peek of yellow-white among the leaves-a letter, he would bet his life on it.

_Or bet mine, it's worth so much less._

"Forehead ordered them, and told me to give them to you before she left for that last mission about a week ago." She looked up again, a mischevious glint in her blue eyes. "Chrysanthemum, red: love. Chrysanthemum, white: truth," she quoted.

Naruto felt something break. Forcing a smile-the embarrassed blush was already there; since when was it so hot in here?-to his face, he thanked Ino, who waved him off absently.

"Well, enjoy your flowers and your answers," she said jokingly.

Naruto raised a hand in closing, imitating his former sensei. "See you around, Ino."

"And come by again tomorrow, why don't you?" she asked in a sudden monotone. "I'd like an explanation for that letter."

The door shut behind him, shrinking the block of dynamic light that fell onto the street. Naruto was left standing in the dark, eyes wide open.

_I'd like an explanation for that letter._

"So do we all, Ino. Trust me."

He started walking again.


	10. You and I

Whoa, chapter ten already. I can't believe it's been three months, therabouts...

This entry into our little angsty series is darker, in my opinion. You can judge for yourself; feedback is always good. I had to edit a bit, take out some things I really liked, so I could get all the necessary information in. In my opinion(I know you're getting tired of hearing me blather :D), I feel this could have had better flow... Oh well. Here we go! Special dedication to **Kinetic Sleeper **is go!

* * *

_Well, then. I haven't really seen you in a while, now have I? It's been kind of lonely, all alone here in this flower pot-not to mention in my head. Inner has been silent for the past few days, but I can still feel what she feels-I guess that's part of the explanations for my fluctuations in mood. Even I noticed it; I'm not so far gone that I can't pick apart reality and fantasy, what's real and what's just in my head. But lately, though, it's gotten harder. Thing-things I see in nightmares show up sometimes, on the corners of my vision. They're just out of sight, and whenever I turn to look, they're gone. Gone! Just like that! I can't pin anything down, and it's driving me crazy. I say that literally-I know something's wrong; I've known ever since Shisou wouldn't let me handle the medical records any more. She's got something to hide, or maybe I do and I just can't remember._

_But on with this stupid charade, yes? You've humored me this far; I guess I'll just have to try your patience a bit more. _

_But, I conclude, that if you're reading this letter, that you've gotten the flowers, this letter, and a drawing or description from Ino. I also guess that you're wondering why I left something like this in her care; you should also be aware of its dual purposes. Firstly, she was-is-my friend, even if neither of us knew it for a while. You can't erase years of ties in a split second._

_I mean, I can see your point of view-I really thought I hated her for a while. But that was just it-I __**thought. **__Me-I-we-us- I think-or do we-_

_Agh. Damn this. The bottom line is, though, that things like this-this paper you're holding-are what happen when I think. Nightmares are what happen when I think. And this, sure as anything, is a fucking nightmare. I'm in so deep; I'm losing more and more of myself. I think I am crazy-I am! And I know I am-what the hell does that mean? What am I? What have I become? I don't understand-not any more. _

_Hah. 'Not any more.' That's my refrain-I'm stuck in rewind. I'm living-well, not really __**living**__-in the past, in what used to be. You- you all got over what life threw at you, as far as I know. Or you could be like me… But for some reason, I'm falling-fell-apart. I don't want to, but I don't want to stop myself either. I can't; but I wouldn't-even if I could. There's a satisfaction in breaking a plate, in shattering a glass. Seeing everything fly apart, and know that you-you!-could cause this, that you could do this. And that's only a glass… If you could destroy someone else's life, wouldn't you? _

_Well?_

_I thought not. You were never like that. You weren't like me. _

_But I couldn't very well go around killing people, could I? I'm a medic, not a killer, and something in me still rebelled at the thought of taking lives, with either one less heartbeat or making life not worth living for someone else. I can't describe anything accurately for you. It __**can't **__be described-you have to feel it. It's not conveyed, but lived. _

_But I digress. Like I said, I couldn't hurt others, for some reason. So I settled for what I at first thought to be second best, but turned out to give more of a thrill, a mental high, than anything else. _

_Ripping into myself, destroying my own life, was so much more satisfying. Seeing it flutter down in wispy shreds, like my future is snowing; catching in my hair and on my eyelashes, but not owned by me any longer. I have no future now; I did that purposely. I couldn't have a way out; I had to go through with this. _

_I would beg with you to understand, but I wouldn't expect you to understand, Naruto. Oh, yes- I know it's you. I've known It would be you all along. _

_I just can't see you feeling the same want for destruction not of others-I know you feel that, that the Kyuubi feels that-but of yourself. I want to rip myself to shreds-I WANT to! I crave it; I think about it all the time. I can hardly stand it; I want to be free! And the only freedom-the only TRUE freedom-lies in death. _

_And now, I'll bet, you're wondering the second purpose of my leaving this with Ino. I haven't; I guess we're both lucky tonight. And, of course, luck has everything to do with this-my game for you. I'm getting tired of it, and I want this to end. _

_I tell you this, and take it as fact. _

_You have thirty-six hours left to complete the game. _

_In thirty-six hours, Ino will panic, because nothing has been explained. She will go to Tsunade-shisou, who will in turn go to __**you. **__And you will not be able to find a way out. _

_In thirty-six hours, you will have to be outside the gates of Konoha, heading towards the Iwa outpost. You will have to be long gone. This is the last part of the game. Stay with me._

_Please, remember two things. _

_First, I wanted this._

_Me. _

_Secondly, it was you all along._

_You._


	11. empty twisted little world

This is the last. Interpret what I say how you wish; you may only hear what you want to, or you may hear what you never wanted to: my intentions from the start.

_

* * *

__Run to ruin, because that's all you can ever do. You run and run, trying to catch up with the manic, convoluted path she sets, trying to catch up and find your place in her cold empty twisted little world. _

The moonlight filtered through the twisted trees, falling in rippled, broken fragments across the clearing-the border between Konoha and Iwa, seemingly alive. Dead-dying-dead phantasms biting with serrated edges; blackened, wizened tendrils pulling him in. Naruto shivered, the night air biting-the seasons were about to turn. Leaves etched with frost, writing words no one would ever know-

Answers.

What he came here for.

Answers.

Everything was building, culminating here. The tension was tangible, breakable in the air, made weak by frost and death; fractured over and over again by falling hope and lost purpose. The air smelled like ashes, ashes from all the burned bridges, from all the walls that had come tumbling down.

There was an ominous sense of invasion by just standing on the edge of this clearing. He didn't belong here, in this place where the dead congealed; he didn't belong in the dying promised land. He was here for her, to pay his respects.

_And you keep seeing her in your mind, a frail, pale shadow of what was. She smiles at you and looks through you and you feel like you're the one gone, like you're the ghost in her world, her cold empty twisted little world._

If it could even be called that.

This whole thing was so twisted, so distorted. Naruto was looking at the world through a warped piece of glass, glass woven from binary strands of was-things that were. Things that could never be resuscitated, things that if you tried to resuscitate them, they would suck the life out of you and _stay dead. _This… This was the end of the line.

Shoving frozen hands in his pockets, Naruto stared at the ground, blinking back tears that were coming only now-_now, _of all times. But being here, standing here… All it served to do was drive home the reality of the fact that _this was reality. _Reality was here. It was the cold and the frost, the ink and the paper. It was the gods-damned ink and paper their-for yes, it was _theirs _now-their tale had been forged with, immortalized, for better or for worse, in annals of the mind.

_Go on, try to close your mind. Try not to hear what she says to you. Try to block it away, she dares you. But you can still read her lips; hear the words she's used to convince herself. You can hear the silent dead speaking to the walls of your mind, creating her twisted little world so that after she's gone, it will live on in you._

And now he just wanted to forget.

Forget her, forget this… It had turned from a surreal dream to a nightmare to something horribly real, something as alive as Sakura was dead.

He wanted to forget how he kept imagining her alive; imagining this some kind of elaborate hoax.

Maybe it could have been, somewhere else, in some other place, some other time, some other people. Maybe the other person had been able to save his best friend, save both of them. Maybe they hadn't had to watch as they both lost themselves to their minds-dying collectively, symmetrically, drowning in their heads.

Naruto was about to wipe furiously at his eyes, but there was _something_-

_And she tells you to let them fall, to let the tears go. In your head, your dreams, she's right there, frozen hands lisping over your arms, trying to comfort but instead stealing away the last of your hope. And really, it's just a half-hearted comfort, because noting is enough to fix the empty. Nothing is enough to stop her from destroying herself, from ripping her twisted little world apart. _

"Let them fall."

Naruto sun around and there she was, pale and opaque and _right there, _smiling with empty pale lips and empty pale eyes in an empty pale face from her empty pale twisted world. The choppy moonlight slid over her face with the breeze through the empty pale branches, rattling like bones in a closet.

"Saku-Sakura?" This was incomprehensible, impossible. Not-no… "What is this?" he asked hoarsely.

She closed her eyes, reopening hazy orbs ever so slowly. "This is my goodbye." She reached forward and brushed icy fingers over his face, somehow right there-_right there-_ and then gone again.

_And she steps away from you; pushes two fingers against her cold empty head, rests them on her temple. It's a twisted mockery: a gun, a knife, a salute to was. You want to not hear, not see-the world is mute, but you still see her mouth move; not ansers, there were never nay to be had, but she can give you her last, cold empty words- _

"I love you."

_But I can't stay, she mouths. So this is my goodbye._

"Goodbye." Another wan cold empty smile, that is till not a smile.

_Sakura smiles again, as she lifts her fingers; as she crumples into nothing, as she vanishes, dissipates back into her cold empty world and you are left alone, alone all over again._

And remember, I love you.


End file.
